


Cursed

by UmbraDraugr



Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: Escape, F/M, Horror, Miscarriage, Sad with a Happy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbraDraugr/pseuds/UmbraDraugr
Summary: A woman suffering from depression due to her numerous failed pregnancies goes to stay with family in New Jersey, at her husband's suggestion. Eventually, not believing the legends of a masked killer, she gets a summer job as a counselor there, only to learn that perhaps the stories were true after all.





	1. Moving

**Author's Note:**

Crimson tides washed over your small frame, beating your body against the rocks again and again. No matter how hard or for how long you tried to swim away, the waves would drag you back and slam your already broken body into them. When you surfaced for air, you would try to reach up as if to drag yourself out of the peril you were trapped in, watching the sticky red liquid drip off your fingertips.

This was what hell felt like.

Endless, horrific torment. An ocean of red lifeforce beating someone to death. That’s what Dante should have created, not the nine circles.

The smell was even more horrific than the pain. Like the taste in your mouth, it was metallic. The smell reminded you of when you played on the monkey bars as a child, and when you drew your hands back they smelt like the metal bars they touched. The taste was the same, though mixed more with salt. Not at all pleasant. Your dark red hell continued to beat you down, until you felt something grasp your ankle.

You opened your mouth to scream- panicked, kicked, thrashed -but the blood swiftly filled your mouth, invading your lungs as the hand holding your ankle dragged you down, down, down…

 

You sat up in bed quickly, filling your lungs with oxygen once more and gasping for more to fill your lungs. You choked on the lingering scent, putting hands to your chest and dry-heaving. You could still sense a great pain in your body, but it was no longer your abdomen.

As your soft, teary eyes slowly lowered they caught sight of the stained white sheets under your lower body.

Fuck.

Sighing deeply, you slowly pushed the covers to the side and swung your legs over the side. You felt a stab of pain in your lower parts at the movement, but you simply gritted your teeth and half-limped half-walked to the bathroom to clean yourself off and get ready for the day. 

Halfheartedly, you checked the clock, and it was as bad as you’d expected. 3:28 AM. Amazing. Your sorry butt got woken up at 3:30 and now you had to deal with this for the next few hours.

Your cramps ravaged your body and soul as you headed back into your bedroom, wincing and trying not to curl into a ball and sob on the floor. This was going to be a really bad one- you could just tell.  
Your eyes landed on the figure laying on the other side of the bed from yours, as far away from your side as possible. Resentment burned in your chest, and you felt a tightness around your right ring finger, where your wedding ring was stuck.

Your husband and yourself had a decidedly cold relationship. These days, it had gotten worse.  
You’d always been the quiet, but patient woman, and he’d been a nerdy yet charming man that swept you off your feet so many years ago. He was kind, polite, and sweet as candy since the day you’d begun dating and before. He treated you with respect and never made a crude or crass, and he took things very slowly with you. 

The wedding day was magical, as it should be. Despite what you’d been warned of, your husband didn’t change at all after the honeymoon. He was still as soft and sweet as ever, and you’d never loved the man more than you did after you could call yourself his wife.  
His changes, however, began months after you’d consummated your marriage on your honeymoon. About 5 months in to be exact. Miscarriage. You’d began bleeding while you were setting up the nursery and you screamed for your husband, terrified, and he rushed you to the hospital. There was nothing you could do; miscarriages were irreversible after all.  
The next year, you tried again. Positive pregnancy test. The nursery got set up again. Seemingly, everything went smoothly, until you went into labor. 

Your baby girl never took her first breaths. She was born dead. Stillbirth, the doctors said. You’d tried a third time, but it resulted in another miscarriage.

Ever since then, your husband and you didn’t have the motivation to try anymore. The doctors had said it was pretty obvious you had an abnormal uterus, considering your frequent failed pregnancies. This knowledge began to tear apart your marriage more than the first miscarriage did. At least when you had a life in your belly, you had hope. Hope for your marriage, hope that, even if you divorced, you’d still have a tiny life that would keep you and him together. But no. There was going to be no such solace for you. Not since you’d figured out your own body had betrayed you. 

You normally would reached out to touch him. Told him, “Hey… baby, I’m sorry for waking you but I had a bit of an accident. Maybe you should go sit in the den and I could make an early breakfast?” but you doubt that would work. He’d been getting more and more angry with you, especially if you touched him. All he expected from you now was for his meals to be made and the house to be silent.  
Sighing gently, you retrieved the hydrogen peroxide from the cupboard and doused a washcloth with it. You quietly scrubbed the mattress, feeling the pain in your nether regions increasing with every move you made. This certainly wouldn’t be easy. 

 

It took two more hours for your husband to waken for work. By then, you’d cleaned the sheets as much as you could and went downstairs to make breakfast. As you cracked two eggs into the pan, you cringed from a bolt of pain going through your body.  
Since your husband had a clear view of the kitchen from where he sat at the dining table, he rose a brow, looking at you from over his coffee and novel. 

“You okay?”

You were almost warmed by his concern, until you quickly realized he didn’t use any nicknames. Your husband loved nicknames.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You forced a smile, and then turned your attention back to the frying pan to continue cooking. “...Thank you.” He looked at you, puzzled, then gave but a monosyllabic grunt of ‘sure’ in response. Your shoulders and posture slumped, and you truly wondered how far gone your loving relationship was.

 

Your husband and yourself ate in silence, as usual. You lamented for the days where you and your husband filled the room with loud, cheerful chatter and giddy laughter. Though you’d been married for a few months then, you acted like any other unmarried couple and adored each other like nothing else in the world made them happier than being with each other. But you repeatedly had to remind yourself that the dog days were over, reminding you of why your relationship had gone the way it did, and you had to try your best to withhold a sob. 

“I think we need a break.”

Those words swiftly pulled you out of your melancholy daydream state. You slowly looked up, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Wh… what?”

“I think we should take a break. From each other, y/n.”

Your grip tightened on your fork. Your mouth felt dry and tears threatened to spill over, stinging your eyes. You swiftly blinked them away.

“Why? Can’t we just talk?” You voice was shaking, and you could tell your husband was getting uncomfortable. 

“Y/n.. please. I just think we-”

“Why can’t we just talk, GOD DAMMIT!?”

He froze, staring at you with widened eyes. You had never raised your voice to him before- he was the one that got angry. You, however, were immediately regretful and began to feel tears stream down your cheeks. “I just want to fucking talk to you.” You sniffled, wiping one of your eyes and looking down at the table.

A soft silence settled over the two of you before he finally spoke again after clearing his throat. “You have family in New Jersey, right? You could go stay with them for a while, and I’ll go upstate to stay with my brother for a while. This isn’t me breaking up with you, y/n, I just think we… we both should think everything over for a while.”  
You nodded slowly, not raising your eyes from the table. Despite his words, you knew what he meant. 'I’m seriously considering divorcing you because you’re an infertile piece of shit that can’t give me a baby. You should go stay with your family in Jersey so I don’t have to listen to you cry about it.'

You stood up, pushed your chair in and slowly nodded with your eyes still lowered. You didn’t dare look at him. “I’ll go pack.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and you turned to go upstairs. Your feet felt heavy, as if you’d been given concrete shoes, and you wanted to turn around. You wanted to run back to your significant other, sobbing and crying for him, and maybe if he was the same man he was back then he’d take pity on you and forgive you for raising your voice to him. But he wasn’t. This man was now a stranger in your home, whom you shared a bed with, cooked for, and wore his ring, but you no longer knew him. That knowledge caused tears to flow down your cheeks again, though this time they were from anger.

Walking into the bedroom, you pulled one of your suitcases from the closet and began packing. Because it was summer, you packed cool clothes and made sure to have lots of light colored tee shirts and shorts. Your brain had gone on autopilot it seemed, for because you saw yourself packing clothes, toiletries and other things it was as if you were watching a movie in first person. Though your face was tear-stained, you no longer felt anything. You were numb. Cold shocked. Frozen, despite the fact you were obviously moving.  
You didn’t want to leave this house, but once you were packed you grabbed what else you needed-phone, charger, extra tampons/pads, purse etc -you had quietly bid your husband goodbye for what may have been the last time and walked out the door.

You put your bag in the trunk, put the keys in the ignition, and sat in the hot car, waiting for it to cool off with the AC full blasting. While you waited, you pulled your phone from your pocket and pulled up your text messages to tell your family you were driving to Jersey. Much to your surprise, it’d been ages since you texted them… the last time you came down, actually. Shaking your head, you sent it and put your phone in your purse. 

The drive was going to be long, and you just wanted to get the hell away from this godforsaken house now.  
Away from the pain.  
And away from him.

 

It was dark by the time you arrived. Your cousin Lucinda, an eccentric woman that adored you, lived in Crystal Lake, a small town. Her house was at the edge of town, near the woods, and you had only been there once when you were much younger but it was peaceful. Very serene, despite being still close to town.  
When you pulled up, Lucinda began rushing out to meet you. She laughed as you pulled the car door open and she threw her arms around you, rocking you back and forth and squeezing you like a boa.

“Oh my god! My baby cousin’s all grown up!” 

You sighed, resting your head against her chest while she went on and on about how much she missed you and how long it had been.  
When the two of you went inside, you chatted for a long time and you danced around the subject of your husband. Lucinda didn’t seem to want to know anyway. She never really liked him, and you wondered if she was right about him from the beginning. However, Lucinda mentioned something odd after about an hour of idle chit-chat.

“Did people in town mention the killer in the woods?”

You gave her a shocked look, brows raised.

“Luci… are you messing with me?”

“Oh, honey… we need to talk.”


	2. The Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a job at the camp after talking to your cousin about it, and you hope you will be able to be the best counselor you can once the camp opens.

You rose your brows at Lucinda and beckoned her to continue with a nod.  
“What about it?” You inquire. 

Smiling knowingly, your cousin continued. She even changed her voice slightly to sound like she was telling a campfire story. Even with the bubblegum she was chewing on, man, could this chick do a good scary voice!  
“So, there was this kid, right? All deformed n’ shit. Drowned back in th’ 60s ‘cause th’ counselors were having sex an’ weren’t watching th’ kids. He was like- 10!”

You frowned. You already didn’t like this story, and you found Luci referring to the poor child as ‘all deformed n’ shit’ rather unfeeling. “Yeah…?”

“An’ his mom went back and murdered everyone because they let ‘er kid die, and then when they tried to open it years later she killed all th’ counselors again! One of the girls survived, though, an’ beheaded ‘er with her own machete. Rumor has it, th’ boy- Jason -all grown up saw it an’ murdered the girl that did it. She died right after coming home. To this day, every summer, counselors die. Tha’s why everyone calls Camp Crystal Lake Camp _Blood_ now!”  
You stared at your cousin with furrowed brows, feeling terrible but also weirded out. That’s such a strange legend, isn’t it? And if Jason had drowned, how was he all grown up and killing people?  
“So... this poor kid’s been wandering in the woods for years, saw his mom die, and now he’s a monster because he wanted revenge for his death and hers?”   
Lucinda stared at you as you spoke, and huffed softly. “C’mon, y/n, you make ‘im sound like some kinda good guy!”

You simply shook your head. Of course she wouldn’t understand. Lucinda had never been the most… emotional person.   
“I don’t like it, Luci. Not one bit. I think that’s a horrible story.”

“Oh, i’s not a story, honey! Jason’s been murderin’ people for a really long time.” You couldn’t believe your ears. Could she hear herself? No matter. It didn’t matter anyway. You could just… well, suffer through her insensitivity and learn the real story from a sane person in this town. “I’m going to go unpack in the guest bedroom, Lucinda. Really, thank you for letting me stay. It’s very kind of you.”

Lucinda smiled and once you stood to get your suitcase from the car, she got to her feet as well and gave you another rib-crushing hug. “Ohhh! I’m so proud of you! My lil’ baby cuz!”

 

While unpacking, you’d unintentionally thought about Jason and Camp ‘Blood’. Something about his story and the idea of a man who probably still thought like a child being all alone with no one just broke your heart. Perhaps it was your longing to be a mother and the fact your menstrual cycle often brought unpredictable emotions for you that fueled these thoughts. You knew that he’d probably kill you if he was real, but your maternal instincts were too much to bear. Besides, there was more than one way to truly learn the truth about this masked mass murderer. 

At dinner, you headed downstairs and took a seat at the table with Lucinda. After about 5 minutes into your meal, which Luci had cooked, you decided to bring it up.  
“So, y’know the ‘Camp Blood’ thing?”

Lucinda smirked through a mouthful of food and nodded.

“Are they hiring counselors this summer?”

She choked, and you practically jumped out of your skin, fearing you’d scared her badly. However, that was not the case. Once she could breath she let out a laugh- a cackle, more like. “You gotta _deathwish_ y/n? I mean- ya if ya wanted, but you might not come back alive.”  
You shook your head, still finding her comment silly. Maybe if Jason wasn’t real, you could come back and make fun of Lucinda for her superstition.   
“Where do I sign up?”  
“You are one crazy girl, y/n, you know that?”

 

Within a few days, you were putting on your counselor uniform and heading up there with all your things packed. The guy you talked to so you could sign up was obviously surprised a woman your age was becoming a counselor, as it mainly seemed to be a job teenagers and very young adults took up to spend the summer. Considering you were a woman in her early 30s, you would stick out like a sore thumb- though you still had a natural beauty to you and looked young, a bit softened with age and conceivement of course.   
Wearing the white tee shirt with your uniform and a pair of cuffed jeans (you decided the shorts were a bit _too_ short), you hiked your way up towards the cabins with some uncertainty still. Man, you had to be crazy. It was a miracle you had the strength to get out of bed anymore, obviously, but this was different. This was like consciously walking to your death- something you’d never considered before. 

Sure, there will always be the stereotype that people whom are depressed often contemplate suicide or attempt it, but you weren’t suicidal. You were too drained most of the time to even do simple tasks, nevermind taking your own life by blade, gun, or dose. However, this summer would be different. You’d try your best to be compassionate, understanding, and above all _not moody_. 

You finally arrived at the camp itself, and sound a few of the counselors already there. Putting on your best motherly smile, you approached them while keeping your hands at your sides.   
One of them, a short haired girl looked up and smiled.   
“Hey! Cool, you showed!”

You rose your brows, a bit taken aback, but were amused. “Hello.” You came up to her, holding out your hand. “Uh, y/n. Y/n l/n. Pleasure to meet you.”  
The other counselor giggled at your formality and shook your hand firmly with a grin. “Nice t’ meetcha, y/n! I’m Brandy, and these knuckleheads are Josh and Martin.” She playfully hit the closest guy to her, Josh, when she said his name to emphasize, then pointed to Martin who was busily working with some of the equipment. You chuckled gently, your eyes lowered. “You 3 seem like nice kids.”

“How old are you anyway?” Josh asked, smirking at you. His obviously lingering gaze made you very… uncomfortable. On a reflex, you reached your hand up slowly to brush it through your hair, showing off your ring in the process. Josh frowned deeply and seemed to back off so you didn’t reply.   
Brandy cleared her throat, shooting Josh an angry look. She turned her attention back to you, smiling sweetly, and took your hand in hand. “C’mon, y/n, I’ll show you the kitchen! You’re gonna be the cook right?”

 

It’s been two days since you came up to the Camp as the cook, and by now you’d met everyone. Charlotte, who seemed to have a very keen interest in Martin, Alex who made his interest in Brandy obvious, and one girl named Sabrina that you weren’t sure about. In all honestly, how sexually charged everyone was here made you extremely uncomfortable. At least your ring seemed to be repellant though.

The night was stormy, and you and all the counselors were sitting doing your own thing in one of the cabins. Mysteriously, though, Brandy and Alex were nowhere to be seen. This quickly spread gossip through the gathered counselors aside from yourself, who giggled and joked. One of the others even joked about Jason finding them, which made you straighten up and look their way.

The one who said it, Charlotte, smirked.

“That’s right! You aren’t from around here, are you y/n?”

You shook your head politely, looking at her with the most innocent face you could muster. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.  
“Er… no, not exactly, but my cousin told me about him. The killer in these woods.” 

Charlotte’s smirk widened and she sat across from you, leaning somewhat close to you with wide eyes. She was purposefully trying to freak you out, you could tell.  
“Did your cousin tell you everything? About how he stalks his prey and-”

She was interrupted by a loud crack of lightning and the roar of thunder. Everyone straightened up, running to the window. There was another noise hidden under the storms rumbling, you all knew it. What it was, of course, was up for debate. And of course the other counselors were going to say it was a scream from Brandy as Jason murdered Alex. As you thought, Josh immediately brought that up and unlike before everyone seemed to tense up. Because, this time, everyone thought they heard something. 

“No, man, quit playing.” Martin interrupted, grabbing a flashlight. “I’m gonna go see if they’re alright. Say what you want about this Voorhees guy, but remember that _animals_ are a danger too.”

Unsurprisingly Charlotte grabbed a light too and stood close to Martin with furrowed brows. “Yeah! C’mon, Mar, let’s go.” Her eyes lingered on you, obviously trying to beckon you to accompany them. You slowly shook your head, though.   
“No, you two go. Once you get them, there’ll be four of you and we need people to hold down the fort back here in case anything happens. Uh… take a weapon or something, though. If it is an animal, they’re probably really hungry to be attacking 2 humans at once. Be really careful.”  
Charlotte looked disappointed that you ‘chickened-out’ and weren’t going, but she gave you a hug anyway and left the cabin with Martin a second later. You sat stalk-still in your chair, weirdly afraid for them. After a few minutes of listening to the storm and trying to calm yourself, you got up to go to the bathroom and change your tampon/pad.

 

It had been way too long. They should’ve been back by now. You sat in your chair again, your leg nervously tapping the floor repeatedly and your hands balled into fists. Something about this situation ground your gears, and the amount of time passing didn’t help.  
Josh was fucking around with the card deck he’d been using for a game of solitaire with Martin before he left, and he looked at you curiously. 

“Uhh… wanna play something, y/n?” Your attention snapped from the window to the younger man, and you smiled weakly.   
“I’m garbage at solitaire, but I’m sure we could find something to play.” You replied shyly. Josh grinned and scooted over on the couch, putting the cards on the coffee table between both of your seats.   
“How about Go Fish? Tha’s super easy!” You rose a brow at him, smiling more genuinely.   
“What do you think I am, Josh, 4?”  
“Well, you wanted anything other than solitaire!”  
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Alright, what other card games you got?”

Josh thought for a moment, tapping his finger against his chin when he suddenly was struck with an idea. The man grinned widely. “Poker.” For a moment, you thought that was an okay idea. “Alright. So- wait…” Your brows furrowed, and you scrutinized his smug face when it hit you. “No!”  
“C’mon, we don’t have any chips!”  
“Oh my god, man.”  
“It’s the next best thi-iing~!”  
“We’re NOT playing Strip Poker, Josh!”

He just laughed at your uncomfortableness and started setting out the cards anyway, reassuring you that it would be ‘fun’ every time you complained.   
“So, y/n, do you-”

Suddenly, a scream erupted from the depths of the forest, making you both jump. Two screams you realized actually- just at the same time. Josh and you locked eyes, fearful, and it took at least a minute for you to get up and grab the last flashlight. Your fight-or-flight responses were screaming for you to run- run back to town and hide in your cousin’s house -but you managed to control yourself. Control yourself for Brandy, Martin, Alex, and Charlotte and see what happened. “Come on, Josh… let’s go get them.”

 

Charlotte and Martin had gotten hopelessly lost, and Martin was too proud to admit it as they stumbled through the darkness with their flashlights in hand. Char decided to take it as her chance, considering they were in the middle of nowhere, and she clung to his arm with a devious smirk.  
“Maaaarrrtiiin.” She purred. Martin gently tried tugging his arm away, his brows furrowed. “Fuck off, Char, we need to find Brandy and Alex.” Charlotte pouted, clinging onto his arm again, tighter this time. Martin was getting more annoyed, but he reached a boiling point when Char tried to take the flannel shirt he had over his white tee shirt off. He spun around, thoroughly pissed.

“What the FUCK is your problem, Charlotte!?” 

The shorter woman stared at him with wide eyes, not sure how to respond. Her mouth was slightly agape, but she shook off the shock of him getting angry and tried to play it off.  
“Hey.. I was jus’ playing man, no need to be so sensiti-”  
“BRANDY AND ALEX COULD BE FUCKING RIPPED TO SHREDS AND YOU’RE TELLING ME IM BEING SENSITIVE? ARE YOU EVEN HEARING YOURSELF, YOU FUCKING PITILESS BITCH!”  
Not a few seconds later, he screamed as suddenly a blade thrust through his chest, splattering blood on Charlotte’s face, making her scream too. Martin’s body toppled to the floor as the blade was pulled out of him, revealing a massive, hulking brute in a hockey mask standing behind him. 

Charlotte screamed, and threw the only thing in her hand- her flashlight -at Jason as a reflex. The woman attempted to turn on her heel and flee, but Jason was surprisingly fast with how long his legs were and he sliced one of her legs with his machete. She cried out, falling to the ground but still attempting to escape in vain by crawling away. The killer casually approached her, and when he was close enough he brought his machete down on her again and again and again. She was certainly dead now.  
As he walked off, he was unaware of the fact Martin was still alive, though choking on his own blood. The poor boy laid in a pool of his own crimson lifeforce, blood filling his lungs as he slowly died an agonizing death.

 

You and Josh were having a hard time finding where the others went. Even with flashlights, the night was fucking dark as hell and it was hard enough to take a step without tripping over something on the forest floor. As you both traversed on, determined, you suddenly stopped. You were hearing weird, loud sounds- footsteps, you think -every once in a while.   
“J-Josh…” You stammered, tearing up slightly. “Josh, do you hear that?”

Josh turned his head, raising a brow.   
“What do you mean? I don’t hear anythi- hoLY FUCKING SHIT!”  
He suddenly snatched your wrist and began violently pulling you into the forest, and you distinctly heard the sound of loud, crunching footsteps behind you. As much as part of you wanted to, you were much too scared to look over your shoulder. Mostly since you knew it was Jason. It had to be. He was here, and that was why Josh was so scared. 

Josh, of fucking course, abruptly tripped on a log in the darkness, making you both topple over. You barely even had a chance to recover when Josh let out a cry of pain as the pursuer of you both plunged his blade into his head. You gasped, winded and still laying on your back, and you stared up at Jason as he turned his attention to you. He raised his machete, though all fear abruptly left your body.

You locked eyes with him, expression blank. He was about to murder you, but yet you weren’t at all frightened. If anything, you wanted to die. You were going to go back to divorce papers and heartbreak- you were sure of it. And so death seemed like a pretty okay alternative. Breathing steady and demeanor calm, you closed your eyes slowly and awaited death to swiftly take you. 

But, it never came.

Jason stood over you, machete raised, though he wasn’t moving. It was if he’d been turned into a statue and you couldn’t help but be confused when you opened your eyes again. Was he… hesitating?


	3. Lamb to The Slaughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader decides to try to figure out why she was spared, but only ends up with more questions.

You watched the killer stand above you, still not attempting to run away or beg for your life. Jason seemed to watch you, and machete slowly came down though not for you. He held it at his side, still staring at you. Your expression sunk into one of dumbfoundedness, and though you wanted to you didn’t dare move. The man that had slaughtered your fellow counselors just stared at you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was confused as you.

You both must’ve stared at each other for two minutes- breathing shaky and confusion lingering over the two of you -before Jason abruptly turned around and began walking into the woods. You stared after him, finally being able to control your breathing once he was quite far away. For some reason part of you wanted to follow him though instead you stood up and began to walk back to the cabin.

Not run. Walk. You walked calmly as if this was any summer night. As if you weren’t covered in a mix of dirt and Josh’s blood. As you walked back, your hand shaking while you held the flashlight, you thought long and hard about what happened.  
You still never found Brandy and Alex, though you knew they were dead. Perhaps that was why Martin and Charlotte screamed in the first place- because they found the bodies. They had to be nearby, though, considering Jason had found you quicker than expected. Josh… Josh was certainly dead. The blood from Jason stabbing his machete into Josh’s skull had splattered all over your face and tee shirt, and you could feel it drying on your skin. Though you were numb from shock, tears spilled out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Josh was a good kid. Pervy, sure, but he had a good heart as well as a great sense of humor. He hadn’t actually been weird towards you, just jokingly attracted. He respected your boundaries and actually interacted with you and was more human with you than your own husband had been in the past few months. 

But he was dead. And that was it. Dead. Expired. Passed on. Perished. Laid to rest. Pushing up daisies. Any way you slice it, he’s gone and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it obviously. 

Before you knew it, you’d reached the cabin. Hands shaking, you made your way inside and stood in the living room, looking at nothing in particular. You were still in shock, you supposed, as the numb feeling was still there. You slowly went over to your bag that you’d put on the floor and changed, numb the entire time. Of course you hadn’t bothered to go into the room you were staying in- not like anyone was there to watch you.

Finally it seemed to hit you. The shock wore off. You crumpled into a ball on the floor and began to sob your eyes out. You cried for the victims first, and then for their families. You cried for the lives they never got the chance to live out- the children they could’ve had down the line -and eventually you cried yourself asleep.

 

When you woke up, you were still in a ball on the floor, though you’d at some point grabbed a pillow off the couch and one of the light jackets you brought to use as a blanket. It must’ve been close to noon by now. Yellow rays of sunshine broke in through the windows and warmed your face and your body, and for a moment you thought everything was normal. You could just… get up, make breakfast for you and the others, listen to Brandy tease you about sleeping late and play cards with Josh, maybe even talk about a book with Martin. It took you a few moments to remember what happened last night, and when you did you almost cried for the second time. However, you knew there was no point in tears. They were all dead. And that was that.  
You must’ve laid there for another hour just thinking things over. Normally it would’ve been spent feeling sorry for yourself so at least there was something that came out of your laziness. Eventually, you formed a plan in your head. You’d call Lucinda. Tell her that the job fell through, or that everyone left or something. Or maybe you could just tell the truth. She’d figure out eventually anyway. Crystal Lake _was_ a small town after all. You’d make yourself some food, attempt to eat, and wait for Lucinda to come get you.

After you got up, you immediately made yourself food. You were feeling practically ravenous- perhaps that’s how you deal with grief now. Sighing gently, you ate your breakfast in silence, looking out the window. You glanced at your phone, which sat on the table beside your plate. You never reached for it. You just… stared at it. Part of you wanted to call your cousin, to scream and cry and let out everything on your chest; but something about that just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bring yourself to pick it up.

So you didn’t.

You spent the next few hours taking care of yourself. Because you didn’t change your pad/tampon before bed you had to take a shower to clean your lower regions and thighs off, and changed into fresh clothes. After considering it with yourself, you walked back to where Josh had died beside you. Almost surprisingly, it was much easier to find in the daytime than at night despite it being the same woods. Much to your horror, though, Josh’s body was gone, replaced by a bloody stain and and obvious prints in the dirt. You kept going through the area and found where Martin and Charlotte would’ve been. A similar story revealed inself.  
As hard as you tried, you never found where Brandy and Alex died. Part of you wanted to believe that they escaped- that they got back to town, to safety -but the rational part of you knew that wasn’t the case. They had gotten hopelessly lost when they tried to escape him and were eventually slaughtered. That’s how it must’ve gone. Sniffling, you gave up and walked back to the cabin. Not having much else to do, you sat in the cabin and read a novel for a few hours, though you could barely bay attention to it. One question was swirling in your mind now; why had Jason spared your life? He killed Brandy and Alex, then Charlotte and Martin. He killed Josh when he right next to you, but when he was holding your life in his hands, and you even prepared to die, he hesitated? It didn’t make any sense.

You had no right to live longer than Josh, so why did he decide that you did? Josh was a kid. Probably barely out of school. He had so much life to live. So much to see and do, people to meet. And then there was you. A depressed woman whose life was falling to shit. You’d long since cut ties with many of your friends, and you never spoke to your family unless you needed something from them. And you could never have children. Why did you deserve to live?  
That was it. That was _fucking_ it. You put your book down, not bothering to save your place, and you walked straight for the door. You were going to find him wherever he’d disappeared to, and make him kill you. God, you wanted to. You wanted to die. The realization you were breathing longer than a bunch of kids you’d only just met broke your heart. And you weren’t going to allow it. 

You began marching towards the tree line when you heard the sound of a car pulling up. Confused, you turned your head- and recognized your husband’s car pulling in. Normally you would’ve been overjoyed! He’d drove all the way down to Jersey see you! But, once he got out and you saw his expression, you couldn’t have felt more resentment in your heart than in that moment. 

“Y/n,” He called, his voice devoid of what normally would’ve been affection and longing. He walked towards you, shifting his arm to hide what was behind his back. “I wanted to give these to you before, but, I figured it couldn’t wait.”

“So you drove all the way to New Jersey to give them to me?” You snapped, your eyes blazing. You already knew what they were. What they had to be. And what this meant for you. 

“Look, y/n.. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear from me but,” He handed the stack of papers to you, obviously disregarding your feelings. His expression was so emotionally frozen it made you feel sick. “I’m sorry. I really am. We both know that this- a break wasn’t going to save us, y/n. You knew that. So I don’t understand why you’re upset.”  
You stared at him with disbelief. Disgust even. Could he hear himself? “This.. ‘break’ was your idea.” You whispered, eyes glued to the stack of papers. Slowly, slowly… your eyes rose to meet his again. You were visibly fuming. “Wasn’t it?”

He had the audacity to ignore you. He turned around, leaving you with the papers. That only made you angrier.

“Get back here.”

He was almost to the driver’s door of his car. You were practically seeing red. 

“Don’t FUCKING ignore me, Matthew!” 

Before you knew it, suddenly he spun around and struck you dead in the face. 

You gasped, obviously horrified. You held your face, looking up at him. Though, your husband wasn’t glaring down at you, angry and resentful. Rather, he was choking on his own blood with a machete through his throat. You gaped, watching as his body slumped to the side. Of course, Jason was standing over you, holding his weapon loosely at his side. 

The two of you stared at each other, just as you had the night before, and after about a minute he walked back off into the woods.


	4. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader continues to chase Jason, and they end up at his home. Despite looking for answers, she only finds more Questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for the reads, kudos and comments! I apologize for my absence; I've been suffering from a lot of lack of motivation and creative block, but know that this story is still being written and I have not given up on it.   
> Again, thank you so much for your kind words in the comments as well as your questions and I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> side note: I'm thinking of trying to write something else. Any Slashers, Dead by Daylight killers, generally horror characters, or (surprise) Overwatch Heroes- yeah im that person -you'd like to see an edgy story for? Let me know in the comments.

The numbing feeling of your deathwish from earlier must’ve still been there, because once he was gone you stood up and began to follow Jason. Birds chirped loudly in the trees, some scattering as you jogged after the murderer’s hulking figure. He continued on through the trees, and though he was very slow his legs were a lot longer than yours were and you were not actually running. 

A few minutes, his outline disappeared among the foliage and tall trees. You almost cried with hysteria- not only were you chasing the man that you sought to make kill you, but he was running _away_ from you. From you! It would’ve been comical, had the circumstances been less macabre.

You kept chasing him despite the fact you couldn’t see Jason anymore, but eventually you broke through the treeline and stood in a small clearing. Jason was opening the door of a ramshackle shack built in the middle. When he heard your footsteps, he turned his head and stared at you. A chill ran up your spine- he looked so much bigger when you were close to him, despite being at least 20 feet from him.   
His grip on the door (which was barely clinging to the hinges) loosened and it hit the frame with a loud clatter as he turned around to face you. His grip tightened around his machete, though you found yourself almost unafraid still. You took a few steps forward, your breathing shuddering. The killer still didn’t move- just stared at you. 

“It’s.. Jason, right? Your name?”

You asked quietly. Your voice was much softer than you’d intended, as if it had lost its courage and fell back, creating an obstructive lump in your throat. You managed to swallow the lump down and continued.

“You’ve spared me twice now. I doubt you’re going to hurt me now.”

Jason seemed to agree with your statement as he let his arm relax against his side. You couldn’t help but be surprised- aside from his hard stare, he really wasn’t making any violent or threatening movements to you in the slightest. His presence was… oddly comforting, in fact. You were silent for a few moments longer before you spoke again.

“I want you to kill me.”  
You admitted timidly, taking a few more steps towards him now. Jason didn’t move and kept staring.  
“I don’t want to live anymore knowing I’ve outlived those kids. And honestly… I just want to know why you did it. Why kill them and not me? What makes me different?”

Instead of getting angry or listening to your request and liberating you of your head or even ripping your heart out of your chest, Jason tilted his head. Like a curious puppy. In all honesty, it was almost cute. It was his physical expression of confusion. 

“You.. can’t speak, can you?”

You queried. Jason shook his head ‘no’ slowly. You sighed. Yes and no questions it was.

“So- did you not kill me because I’m not their age?”

Jason didn’t move for a moment, but then gave a tentative nod. Perhaps that wasn’t the whole story.  
Suddenly, an idea hit you, and you decided to shyly ask it after a moment’s hesitation.

“It’s because I wasn’t going to have sex with anyone, right? Because they’re all young kids that weren’t interested in me?”

His nod was quicker now, though he looked a little sad. You smiled at him comfortingly.  
“I know it’s because of what happened to you that you do these things. You just want revenge for you, and your mama?”

That was by far Jason’s quickest nod. You sighed softly, and looked at the ground. You didn’t expect the air to be so somber, especially around a murderer with his clothes still covered in dried blood. When your eyes raised back up to Jason he was looking at you curiously again. Probably awaiting another question, you guessed.

“You’re _not_ going to kill me… are you?” You questioned finally, looking into the eye holes in his mask. Jason slowly shook his head. A sad sigh escaped your lips. You couldn’t help it- You knew it wasn’t healthy to want to die so badly, but it was so hard to deny. You’d felt so numb for so long that death honestly sounded like a great alternative. 

After at least a minute, you heard heavy footsteps walking away from you and you turned your head. Jason stopped a few feet away from you, and turned his head to look down at you expectantly. Curiosity got the better of you and you followed him. The two of you walked side by side, and as you struggled to match his strides, you started to study your murderous companion.  
Jason was built like a fucking tank. His shoulders were broad and you could see the muscle beneath the arms of his ripped jacket. Honestly, his physique was actually quite attractive in your opinion. You couldn’t see his face under the hockey mask, but you’d heard he was deformed and that’s why he was bullied to death. That part of his story always broke your heart; he was just a little kid that wasn’t excepted. And that, for sure, wasn’t fair at all. No one deserved that, especially when Jason had shown himself to be a rather sweet and curious man. There was no way he was some kind of monster- he was just misunderstood, that’s it!

You realized the two of you were coming to a quiet area of the woods and Jason had stopped. You did as well, and looked at him curiously. Jason turned his head and looked down at you, then slowly sat on the ground. You went to sit too, but Jason put a hand up to gesture for you to stop before you were even halfway done with the motion.

Your face was red by the time you straightened back up- though he was sitting and you were standing, he was basically at head-height with you now. Jason seemed to study you for a minute before slowly, gently, he put a large hand on your belly. Immediately this made you freeze up- what the hell was he doing!?  
Not only was this a very unexpected expression from him, but his hand was strangely warm. Considering he was dead, his hand should by all accounts _not_ be warm, right? That didn’t mean it wasn’t pleasant though. It eased your cramps and general uncomfortableness significantly and you were tempted to press his hand tighter against you so that you could soak in the warmth, but you also didn’t want to scare him. 

Jason kept his oddly warm hand on your belly and tilted his head, though he wasn’t looking at you. He seemed to be listening to someone else. Someone that wasn’t there. A few minutes passed. His soft, earthy brown colored eyes raised to look at your face and you could tell he seemed pleased.

“What’s up?” You asked quietly. Jason stood up somewhat abruptly after removing his hand from your belly and stared down at you. “Is it something... good?” You asked. Jason nodded excitedly, and then without warning began walking back to the shack. Sighing softly with a smile, you followed him. You knew that if you were to continue to coexist with this man in these woods, there would be more than your fair share of misunderstandings, and questions that could truly never be answered.

Jason, in his muteness, would probably never be able to tell you outright what was on his mind, so all you could expect in the future was guessing games. Luckily, you had always been a patient person in your motherliness, so you expected you’d have no problem adjusting to this. Albeit, Jason still murdered a lot of people, including your husband, though you still couldn’t decide if the latter made you sad at all. Maybe your cousin was right, and he was a terrible person after all. Either all, there was truly nothing you could do about it besides listen to your heart and try your best to understand your strange new “friend”.


	5. Troubling Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AW YEAH IM BACK BITCHES-
> 
> I'm on a huge creativity roll (aka edge) so I'm excited to write this new chapter out! Enjoy as I plunge Reader into depressing thoughts and have Jason being as cute and clueless as always.

After the walk in the woods, Jason showed you to a little shack he seemingly made himself. He guarded a room in the back and would not let you even peak into it, so you warily avoided the room lest you upset the beast of a man. By all accounts, he could still hurt you even if you weren't sure he wanted to.

You spent your time there for a few hours, trying to ask Jason yes or no questions until you got tired and it was getting late in the day. When you eventually had to bid him farewell, Jason was oddly upset but he didn't try to force you to stay at all. Instead he just waved shyly and shuffled his feet a little. You could tell he didn't want to be left alone so you smiled and gestured for him to follow you.  
"You can walk me to the cabins if you want." You offered softly while looking up at him with a gentle smile. He couldn't believe the sweetness in your tone. It'd been so long before someone- someone alive at least -had talked to him like that. He followed after her silently but she could tell he was probably smiling under the mask. The both of you quietly made their way through the trees and headed towards the campsite. It was a little funny. You'd been so torn up about what Jason did, though now all that was left was curiosity about why he acted the way he did and why he did the things he did before and even before that. 

When you reached the old wooden building you were staying in, you offered Jason a shy smile and bid him goodbye with a wave as you opened the door. Jason waved back with more shyness than you, and stood there until you walked into the building. For some reason it felt like you had just come home from a first date- granted the only first date you ever remember being on was with your late husband so that was a little perturbing.   
As you'd said, you pushed the thought from your mind and immediately tucked yourself into bed. The day had been tiring, and hanging out with a murderer was surprisingly a mental chore not to freak out at every movement he made. Was he about to choke you out or show you something in his shack he'd invited you into? Everything was a gamble. Eventually you managed to fall asleep after the raging thoughts in your head died down.

 

Sleep ended up being restless. Her dreams were plagued with thoughts about your husband, about all the babies you had lost, and the lives you'd seen taken. There were just so many things on your mind that you repeatedly woke up and fell back asleep again during the night, eventually deciding to stay up at around four am. You laid in bed while feeling miserable but not wanting to get up. Every bone and muscle in your body felt weary and weak and the thought of moving hurt you.   
Oh god. Why today? Why did this have to happen today of all days? Of course there were worse days technically but you had been planning on doing things today. Letting out a shaky sigh, you rolled over as best as you could and pulled the sheets around you. A heaviness had invaded your senses, and your limps felt like they'd been encased in concrete. Looks like another depressive spell had reared its ugly head, wrapped you in its tendrils and didn't plan on letting go anytime soon.

You must've laid there for hours when you heard it. The back door open. Footsteps sounded the arrival of someone, and it finally seemed to wake you from your half-asleep, wishing-you-were-dead state of being. Getting up slowly, you peeked in through the crack the door of the small bedroom that gave you sight into the living room and kitchen downstairs from the stairway, you could see a familiar broad shape.  
Jason? What was he doing in here? Well, never mind that. You shook your head slightly and poked your head out more, craning your neck to see what he was doing. His back was turned to you so it was hard to see, but he set something on the table then turned and headed for the door. You'd forgotten to lock it the night before and you couldn't be sure if that was a good or bad thing. After he had left, the strength and motivation to at least make it down the stairs returned and you walked down the wooden steps and back into the living room. From where you stood you could see a makeshift bouquet- or a bunch of flowers that weren't even tied together rather -sitting on the table. There were a few weeds in there that resembled flowers and what you could only assume was something with burrs on it, but at least he put effort into it.   
Letting out a soft sigh, you found the strength to smile and walked over to the kitchen and looked at them. Most of them looked a little wilted but it didn't bother you much. You grabbed a vase, filled it with some water and put the cute gift in, weeds and all.

Despite the exhausted, emotionless haze pervading your thoughts and movements, you had to applaud his efforts. Jason was thoughtful. He cared about you obviously. And the flowers spoke volumes to what you hoped his feelings were.  
Now that you thought about it, you felt silly. He was a murderer, remember? He killed several other friends of yours in cold blood, remember? But for some reason those thoughts hardly struck you. Instead, though, you felt flattered. Not quite in the mood for happy, but flattered. He was making an effort, something your actual husband, a man you married, hadn't done just because you couldn't have his babies like he planned. Now that, was something very different from what you were used to in a man, and honestly? You liked it.


	6. Authors Note (Please Read?)

I don't really enjoy writing things like these but this is kind of important to me; I've been having a lot of motivation issues because of school and other stresses, but I've been slowly building back up to updating the Imagines, Cursed, and Love Letters in Blood. If any of you have read my other stories, expect this note to show up in them too as I'll be copying and pasting it in chapters in them.

I will try to write some things today or at least sometime tomorrow, but I am still suffering from a lot of creative block despite most of it losing its grip over the past few days. I hope that you all are doing well none the less, and that you enjoy what I have already written. Blessed be <3


	7. Explaining to Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I mean to post it on Sunday but I got held up because of some other stuff. However, I finally know the way I want this story to go and exactly how it ends. We'll probably have a few more chapters before that point of course, but thank you so much for reading this story and to those of you who were so supportive in the comments.
> 
> I love your feedback and I'd love to see more. Blessed be <3

You wished the only thing you would be thinking about was the flowers. You wished the gift would keep you going long enough to stay out of bed for a few hours. But unfortunately there was no such blessing to be had. The heavy feeling and urge to not have to do anything else lay over you like a thick quilt. You made sure the flowers were on a place they wouldn’t fall off, and slowly made your way back up the steps. 

Burrowing into a pile of thick comforters and pillows was far more appealing than you ever remembered it being. Sighing, you slipped your body back under and just laid there; warm, comfortable, but restless all the same.  
It wasn’t that you were sad. No, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that you were lazy. But the lack of emotion, motivation, care, or anything else was what made up your state of being. You knew you should be sad. You should be angry. You should be kicking and screaming and wailing your eyes out, but no. Your state of mind wasn’t letting you, and it was to the point where you _wanted_ to surrender. You _wanted_ to not feel these horrible, all encompassing emotional pains again. Numbness, for once, felt like the right route. 

It must’ve been hours of you just laying in bed, staring at nothing, completely numb, when the back door creaked open again. Somehow in your complete silence you didn’t hear the door open and stayed rooted to your spot. A part of you knew something was off, but at the same time you had no mental capacity to care at the moment. Your limbs were aching from how long you’d been laying down and you were getting quite hungry, but you disregarded all of that. Nothing could pull you out of this state now if it tried.

 

Though he visited much earlier, Jason came back with another gift. He had something in a burlap bag, and set it on the table. He raised his soft brown eyes to the stairs, wondering where you were. He was sure you hadn’t left the house- he would’ve noticed if you were off in the woods.  
The giant of a man walked over to and stood in front of the staircase, staring up them at your body on the bed. He thought it was strange you were asleep so late in the day… you were asleep, right? Maybe you had just been taking a long nap and that was why you hadn’t been out to see him! He did notice the flowers in a vase on the counter, which he was happy about. At least you got up at some point in the day! He took a few timid steps up to the room, looking at you curiously. He didn’t really want to wake you up, but you had been sleeping for so long. Surely you weren’t tired anymore. 

Soon enough, Jason found his way up to your room. He watched your sleeping figure with a gentle gaze. For a few moments he just stood there, admiring how peaceful you looked. Little did the poor thing know, though, was that you were anything but peaceful.   
Snapping out of his makeshift trance, he gently reached over and poked you in the side. Jolting, you sat up and snapped your head to the side. Gasping slightly, you slipped out of bed on the opposite side and glared at him.

“I could've used a little warning! What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking into a girl's room like that? I didn't do anything to warrant that!”

You hadn't meant to be so mean- honestly you were never like this -but the claws of emptiness sinking into your flesh and mind were making you say things you wouldn't normally say. Jason cringed at your tone, and stepped back. He didn't like being yelled at, or when people raised their voices. It made him nervous and he always expected something bad to happen when someone got angry. It usually meant he was about to be hurt by the person angry.

Realizing what you had done, you slowly approached the tall man, hands in the air to show you weren't going to harm him. “Hey, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. You just spooked me, okay? I was just.. I'm just going through a lot right now. I needed time to think. You interrupted me so I got angry.”  
Jason watched you, unmoving, unblinking. He was certainly good at looking like a living statue. However, within a minute he finally moved- though it was a simple head tilt of course. You sighed gently, wondering how to explain.

“Sometimes… sometimes I feel a lot of pain.”

Jason immediately straightened his head up and reached a hand out, but she gestured for him to stop.

“No- no, not like I'm wounded or anything, I'm okay! I'm okay! It's just… well; I have a lot of things to think about. A lot of people I love have died. A lot of people I care about and miss. Not just the late counselors here, but people that were important to me. Sometimes I just.. get so mixed up in my own headspace that I start to feel numb. I try to block out everything and what ends up happening is I lose motivation to do anything, and I kind of just want to lay down and not get back up.”

Jason's shoulders slumped, and he slowly looked down at the ground. Now he understood. He made her hurt by killing people she cared about.

“You probably felt like that when your mother died, didn't you?”

He immediately looked back at her, startled. Really, he mostly remembered being angry and wanting to hurt the woman who beheaded his beloved mother, but after a moment he nodded slowly. After he'd done it he did end up feeling very sad, like even that wasn't enough.   
You gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. Reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, he almost pulled it back in shock but relaxed and let you touch him. It had been a long time since someone showed him affection or tried to reassure him or anything like that. It was nice coming from you.

“That's… called depression, Jason. There's a difference between the types of depression you felt and what I'm feeling, but it's a normal feeling. Everyone feels depressed sometimes. It's inevitable.”

The big man's eyes were looking at your hand, and for a moment you wondered if he even heard you. Though, slowly, slowly, he reached over his free hand and wrapped yours in his. His skin was strangely warm for someone who was supposed to be dead, but you didn't complain. He clamped tightly onto your much smaller hand in the palm of his and looked at you with warm brown eyes.

All are once you understood. The way he held your hand and the way he was was looking at you meant, 'I know I don't understand this all the way but I want to hear about it from you. I want to know how you feel.’   
You couldn't help but smile. Jason was indeed a sweet man. Sighing softly, you let him hold your hand and looked up at him curiously.  
“You want me to explain why I'm feeling the way I am, don't you?”

He nodded quickly and much to your surprise immediately sat on the floor, accidentally dragging you with him rather roughly. This was going to be a very interesting day.


End file.
